I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 104: It was one thing when Paula Abdul started using the phrase to describe a good performance on “American Idol.” That was just annoying; which is to say: that was just Paula Abdul. But, recently, the Emperor saw the phrase “pitch-perfect” used in a book review to describe a writer’s prose. What the Hades does that mean? — his writing was “pitch-perfect”? Reverse the words, and you have something: a “perfect pitch” is a 104 MPH fastball, with tons of movement, that catches the corner of the plate and is completely un-hittable, even though it is still in “the zone.” “Perfect pitch,” in music, is the ability to identify or to reproduce an exact tone on the scale without having heard it first or without having heard any tones in reference: “Hey, Mel! Sing me a third-octave Bb…”  Bing! Laaaa! Mel delivers. But, pitch-perfect? We don’t think so.

The Punishment: Anyone heard using this phrase will be brought to Imperial Park (home of the World Champion [Every Year, or Else] Minions). Behind home plate, there will be a plywood cut-out of a catcher (which, in fact, on the back side, is actually an old-fashioned “stocks” [ah, the classics…]). There will be a hole in the catcher’ s mitt and the offender will be forced to push his head through the stocks and out through the hole. He will then, quickly, most unfortunately, and quite finally, find out what a perfect pitch really is…

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: language & grammar, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 10: Restaurants and taverns in the Empire are no longer allowed to sell “boneless Buffalo wings,” because they are a lie.

The Punishment: Anyone attempting to peddle these meaty imposters will be forced to use wing sauce as aftershave for the span of three weeks.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: recipes & food, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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Emperor’s Decree No.  2013: We don’t know when it happened, but, sometime over the last sixteen years, young people have completely dismissed the use of the definite article, “the,” before the word “prom.” The Emperor knows this, because he has been teaching high school throughout this period  (call it a diversion from the rigors of Imperial Domination) and, sometime during this stretch, a linguistic shortcut took hold. No longer does a boy ask a girl: “Do you want to go to the prom with me?” No, now, it is, “Do you want to go to prom with me?” “How are you getting to prom?” “Are you going to prom?” “Shall we chip in  for a limo for prom?” Gaaahhh!! This annoys the Emperor to no end.  He tried to change this appauling habit, at least on a local scale, through his pedagogical efforts – nay, heartfelt entreaties – in the classroom; he even addressed this on the school’s television system, once, but, to no avail. (In fact, this only made things worse, because, now, students intentionally seek him out and ask him if he is “chaperoning prom.” Little snits.) The Emperor didn’t want it to come to this, but, it’s time for a decree. Let all of America’s youth take note:

The Punishment: Young people who leave out the definite article in discussing THE prom (and are heard by the Imperial Maintenance Men (they’re everywhere, sweeping) will be assigned to a type of grizzly, gray-stone-roomed detention the likes of which they have never known…WITHOUT THEIR CELL PHONES!!!!!!  [Teens scream in horrified unison from the four corners of the globe…] Oh, we mean it. What now? Whuuuut?

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor graces the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: education, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 9-X/32-C: Many make this claim, in an attempt to prove their sophistication: “I listen to everything.” This claim, of course, is a reference to their musical tastes. (Usually, it indicates a complete lack of musical taste, but that is subjective and the Emperor would never want to be subjective.) The sad part is that this claim is usually made by those who make it in referencing the fact that they have pop, rock, rap and country on their playlists. This, to these ignorant auditors, is, “everything.” (And, no, it does not count that you listen to variants within rock and pop. One is not being musically explorational because one listens to Led Zeppelin and Slipknot and Rick Springfield. It is also fair to point out that music is not automatically experimental because its composer wears wool caps in the summer.) In short, most who make the claim of listening to “everything” are like an ant on a beach who, tuckered out after a good three-inch walk, exclaims “Well, I have now seen the world.”  He has seen grains of several different shapes, but, the fact remains, they are still a particular kind of sand. Henceforth, no one may claim that they listen to “everything” until their playlist contains at least 75% names  and works from outside the popular realm and whose works are not available on collections of “relaxing music” sold in endcaps at Target.

The Punishment: Those who wish to make the “everything” claim must be cleared by the Emperor, himself. He will quiz the person in question, who will need to score an 80% or above on a quiz filled with questions like: “Who wrote ‘Koyunbaba’?” — or, “Who was Count Basie’s legendary rhythm guitarist?” — or, “What American orchestra is best know for interpreting French Impressionism?” — or, “What Irish traditional band once teamed up with Roger Daltry for a recording of ‘Behind Blue Eyes?” Those who fail and still continue to make the claim will be chained to the dungeon wall and forced to listen to the entire catalog on their own MP3 player performed by a precocious child with a comb and some wax paper.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: music, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 37382: In the interest of full disclosure, it must be revealed: the Emperor is straight. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.) He imagines, however, that, if he were gay, he would be sick to death of people going out of their way to brag about having him as a friend. It is embarrassing to watch the subjects of the Empire grovel for acceptance in a rapidly-changing philosophical climate by harping on their connection to gay friends instead of just…having them as friends. It shall cease. Just have plain-old friends, my minions. Don’t be a gaytronizer.

The Punishment: Violators shall be forced to watch old sitcoms with token ethnic characters for three-months, non-stop. (They will be connected to a feeding tube in order to facilitate the possibility of this.) Their eyes will be propped open A Clockwork Orange-style and they will be lubricated periodically with a turkey baster.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 3-20: Somewhere in the world, a mother’s baby has been diagnosed with a fatal disease. We can wait for spring. Enough, already.

The Punishment: Complainers will be stuffed with ice cubes shipped off to Siberia, naked.  And shaved, from head to toe. And fully exfoliated.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 99-08-7: The Emperor used to enjoy the “Independent Film Channel.” He also used to enjoy “The Learning Channel.” Time was, one could learn by watching “The Learning Channel.” In fact, the very first show the Emperor remembers watching on the newly launched station was about refrigerators and how they work. Learning. Soon after, he watched a show on ancient warriors. He learned stuff — which is what one would expect from “The Learning Channel.” Sensing, one supposes, that neither learning nor teaching is a lucrative endeavor, the station, at some point, changed to “TLC.” Arguably, one can still learn about which type of shoes one ought to wear with yoga pants, but, other than that, it has generally become a channel with shows about weird families. Likewise, before the “Independent Film Channel” became “IFC,” it showed rarely-seen, less-than-blockbuster, “independent” films, all of the time. Magically, it became “IFC.” The other day, the Emperor, happily wielding the Imperial Remote, caught the opening to Lethal Weapon 2, which starts not only with the classic (and decidedly big-studio-associated) Warner Brother’s logo, but with a brash rendition of the old “Looney Tunes” theme. Down in the corner of the screen was the station I.D. You guessed it: “IFC.” No more of this thinly-veiled deception! Henceforth, television channel names must consist only of complete words. If the content of the channel changes, the name of the station must also change to reflect that content. 

The Punishment: The heads of stations who commit this crime against the Empire will have their names changed, legally, to their own initials. On second offense, they will be changed to someone else’s initials. On a third offense, they will all spend the rest of their lives being called “The Artist Formerly Known as Prince.”

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: television, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 1984: We have tried to be delicate about this, so as not to provoke an (unavoidably impotent) uprising among the subjects of the Empire, but, let’s face it, no one in America (especially in America; especially in New York City) is smart enough to make his own choices. It is the place of any governing institution (either on the Imperial or on the city level) to protect the poor fools in our charge. We, the ones in the velvet thrones — those like Mayor Bloomberg and [Read more →]

Tags: politics & government, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 7 1/4: You know of whom I speak. You have seen him. He is not terribly good-looking, nor is he terribly ugly. He wears a tight T-shirt and carefully-cut jeans whose cuffs fall, frayed, just-so, over his sandals or Vans, but none of this has the same effect that it has on his more athletic companions. He’s not fat; he is not thin; he’s soft-ish. He probably is losing some hair at 23, so he has grown a goatee. And, he wears a hat to bars — a plucky, anachronistic hat. A Bing Crosby hat that Bing took seriously and wore without irony; but our young friend “gets the joke.” The hat is too small, on purpose, so that it sits high on his crown. Somewhere in his subconscious he probably feels it draws the attention of girls from his doughy torso and from his sub-handsome face…and up…up…up…to his “mind.” To his personality, which (it is made clear by the hat) is irreverent and…plucky. He is not Channing Tatum, this one. He is Jason Mraz. He is a madcap. He’s the guy who goes and gets the keg and makes up obscenely-illustrated paper tickets to sell from room to room. He is the assembler of beer bongs. He is the keeper of seeding charts during beer pong. He is the guy who talks to your girlfriend on Tuesday night, on a bench outside the humanities building, and who tells her that you kissed another girl the previous weekend… simply because she is “too nice and pretty” and he “can’t stand to see her get hurt” [read: because he feels he deserves to get sex for this altruistic sharing of information]. He will get a hug. That will be all.

The Punishment: If found in bars by the Imperial Bouncers, these plucky fops will be…well…made to eat their hats.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: fashion & clothing, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 04 AMP: Lately, there has been a great deal of talk about arming teachers — for the protection of the children and so forth. This debate may continue, but the Emperor sees another reason for arming teachers — particularly instructors of adult education (night classes, certification classes and so-forth). Recently (not that he needs it, you understand, but because it pleases him to do so) the Emperor has been attending a particular class and he has drawn this conclusion: the majority of adult-ed. students are egocentric idiots who just want to hear themselves yammer. “I know you already said that the State has not determined what will happen as a result of this situation,” said one graying woman with glasses perched with planned randomness on the top of her head, “but what will happen?” How the professor didn’t respond by smashing her on the bridge of the nose with the spine of his laptop, the Emperor does not know. The professor is to be commended for his patience. But I think we all agree that the woman really deserved to be Tasered. In short, in the future: asinine question = intense electrical shock. Likewise, anyone who raises his or her hand, gets called upon and then opens with “I have a question…” will feel the white-hot fangs of high-amperage at the hands of his instructor. “OF COURSE YOU HAVE A QUESTION, YOU LUMMOX. THAT’S WHY WE RAISE OUR HANDS IN CLASS!” GZZZZHHHHHHH. Perhaps, after pondering for a moment amid the mingled scents of burnt flesh and ozone, the next moron in line will think twice before blurting forth his own extraneous, time-devouring, attention-sponging ejaculation.

The Punishment: Professors and instructors who do not comply shall simply be doomed to keep as they are: suffering at the hands of those over whom they should hold dominion. (It really is an opportunity not to be missed.)

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning

Tags: education, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 555-3342: Seriously, with the cell phones, people. Sweet Jesu. Enough. It’s pathetic. Besides, the only call you really need to hear is the Emperor’s call, n’est-ce pas? All minions of the Empire will surrender their cell phones by midnight, Thursday, so that they may be summarily destroyed. Yes, you heard correctly.

IMPERIAL SUBJECT: Oh, but Magnificent One, what about safety…

EMPEROR: [pinching fingertips and thumb together] PSHHHT!

SUBJECT: But, Emperor…I use mine for work…

EMPEROR: [pinching, again] PSHHHT!

SUBJECT: But, Emperor…I use the GPS…

EMPEROR: PSHHHHHHHHT!

SUBJECT: But… [Read more →]

Tags: technology, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. XLVII: He does not know it yet; he might not want the position, but he has no choice, because we are, after all, the Emperor of the World. The Emperor is appointing Alan Spoll, author of WFTC’s  “Good Sports, Bad Sports,” to be the Imperial Grand Master of Sport. (The Emperor likes that European “sport” thing, instead of “sports.” It’s real classy.) Grand Master Spoll, alone, through his diligent assessment of the weekly goings-on in sports, will help the Emperor (who is rapidly becoming more and more disgusted with professional sports, but who loves sports, in general) decide if they should be allowed to continue. After the Ray Lewis bit in Alan’s column — with which His Imperial Perfectness completely agrees — the Emperor has decided that, if over the course of the next six months, the “good sports” don’t outweigh the “bad sports” in Alan’s column by at least 75%, professional sports will be banned from Earthly civilization. Professional sports have become an incubator of crime (let me count the ways), dishonesty (yeah, you, Lance), vanity (insert picture of…hell, a thousand guys here), greed (duh!) and even sadism (the Emperor does not forgive Michael Vick). Overwhelmingly, some of our lowest humans have become cast as heroes and even the ones who never went so far as to stab anyone in the eye or to set innocent animals on fire are simply models of flagrant self-aggrandizement who teach our impressionable children that confidence requires arrogant showboating and that achievement is attached to end-zone dances and to conceited statements through which the achievers pathetically beg the general public to shower them with praise. It makes the Emperor royally retch.

The Punishment: The Emperor gives Grand Master Spoll six months in which to change the Imperial Mind. After that, sports go back to the sandlots and tree-lined parks, where (let’s face it) they really belong.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning

Tags: sports, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. >40: The Emperor feels the need to point something out. The trend, especially among young people, of not wearing a coat, despite frigid winter temperatures, is really stupid. Don’t get the Emperor wrong; he doesn’t care one way or the other when stupid people perish — in this case, possibly of pneumonia. (Oh, clam up. There is too a link between the cold and getting sick, Mr. Science.) What he cares about is lame posturing. If you are trying to look tough, the Emperor must point out that it simply doesn’t take too much mettle to get out of your heated car (or school bus) to step into your heated destination. So, that self-aggrandizing idea is out. You want to impress the Emperor? (Of course you do.) Go take a shower and, still dripping-wet, have a naked nap in a snow bank and then wake up and play some Albeniz on the guitar without missing a note. Until then, you are merely a shivering ninny who’s starved for attention in the most embarrassing way. Therefore, ye shall all wear coats on any day below 40 degrees, Fahrenheit.

The Punishment: Violators will be forced to have a wet, naked nap in a snowbank and then to do so again and again until they win a sub-freezing game of Jenga against the Emperor, Himself (who happens to be the All-time Jenga Champeeen — and who will be clad in a toasty, royal purple parka with a matching purple muff to keep the Imperial digits supple and precise.)

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning

Tags: fashion & clothing, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 24FPS: The Emperor has not, as yet, sentenced anyone summarily to death, but now is the time. Or, rather, the past is the time. Who, you might often have asked, was the sadistic monster who decided that popcorn should be served in movie theaters? What sick son-of-a-mother decided that the loudest-chewing snack in the history of mankind, served in the loudest-crinkling bag possible, should be the staple treat at an entertainment medium that depends upon audible dialogue; that operates on sometimes delicate, sometimes sublime emotional levels that can be crushed by the slightest peripheral disturbance? We’ll tell you: one Thaddeus T. Wimplenoodle, in the year 1927. (The Imperial Historians were up all night tracking down this information — don’t bother trying to verify it.) Was this beast trying to drive theater-goers into homicidal rages as a result of their being surrounded by entire families full of grunting, bag-crinkling, slack-jawed, open-mouthed chompers? The very idea is a sign of severely sociopathic intentions. Someone like that should never have been allowed to live and the tradition of popcorn in movie theaters must be stopped.

The Punishment: The Imperial Quantum Physicists have sent an Imperial Assassin back in time. Assuming the Imperial Assassin doesn’t accidentally kill his own grandfather, you should count on an unexplained offering of, say, padded cardboard boxes full of marshmallows instead of popcorn at your next theater visit. In short, Thaddeus T. Wimplenoodle must die (or, must have died) before he can (could have) unleash (unleashed) such malignant madness into the world.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning

Tags: movies, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 1/10: The Emperor is sympathetic to the historical subjugation of women; to the unfair treatment they have received (and still receive) at the hands of a male-dominated world. The Emperor also recognizes that attempts have been (and should have been) made in the arts and in media to paint women in a more dignified and empowered light. This should continue. But, in the interest of balancing things out as the obese ship of society rights itself, we think it would be okay to lighten up just a little with the message-sending. Therefore, henceforth, the Emperor decrees that, in a minimum of one-out-of-ten television commercials, the woman/wife/girlfriend in a couple must be depicted as the idiot, instead of the man/father/boyfriend. Just one out of ten, is all we ask. Also, one-out-of-ten female characters in action movies must NOT be a Kung Fu, sword-wielding, back-flipping, killing machine. Let the campaign for total sexual equality continue! Let’s continue to hurl the stones of social-conscience at the glass ceiling! — let’s just cut back the heavy-handedness by one-tenth. Let’s have the pendulum swing back, just a bit (if you will excuse the decidedly male-centric metaphor).

The Punishment: Violators will suffer the loss of one-out-of-ten toes. (Or of one pendulum — violator’s choice.)

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning. 

Tags: his & hers, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 44444: The Emperor has big problems with affected pronunciations; therefore, so will you. Today, he puts a stop to all E-stretchers. Many is the person who has nearly sealed his or her bloody demise by greeting the Emperor (who is simply not a morning person) with a hearty, “Good morneeeeeeen!” This usually is the chosen pronunciation of the same people who say, “Think yeeeeew,” instead of, “Thank you.” (A variant on this is: “Think yeeeuwl” — which is also henceforth banned.) One can break one’s self of these affectations by watching less reality television; but, however one does it, one must. Please be aware: Morning is the province of ubiquitous cardboard cups of piping-hot coffee and the utterance of “Good morneeeeeen!” (to the wrong person) could result in a need for emergency plastic surgery. The Emperor says this out of love and concern for his minions, but also out of concern for his own nerves, which could realistically be envisioned as a line of dominoes teetering on a rowboat, especially before nine AM.

The Punishment: E-stretchers will be temporarily outfitted with a wooden ring, one inch in diameter. The offenders’ lips will be glued around the ring. After four weeks of being forced to say, “Goooo moooornoooo,” the offender should be sufficiently aware of his equally preposterous former speech tendency. The ring will be removed, painlessly, albeit reluctantly, after the prescribed period, by the Imperial Surgeon. The tangent benefit will be that many people will have been greeted with “Gooooo moooornoooo,” which will certainly have produced resultant pleasant belly laughs instead of a pulsing, screeching urge to maim others.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning. 

Tags: language & grammar, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 20: We need less chatter and more meditation regarding the horror of last week. The cacophony must end. Consequently, everyone will cease communicating their ideas and start communing with their inner thoughts. After a month’s time, we can all try to “get answers.” After a week’s time, we can start drafting plans and prevention schemes. For now, grieve. Simply grieve.

The Punishment: Violators will find themselves adrift and juggled about in a rushing current without end. The Emperor will not administer this as a punishment. It simply will be the case.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: religion & philosophy, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. AD 1: Henceforth, there shall be no more “tasteful” Christmas ornaments or decorations. As a means to achieving a ubiquitously, cheesily-decorated Christmas world — a properly decorated yuletide season — the Emperor is going to require all Christmas factories to make their ornaments and decorations out of sweet, sweet plastic. No more wooden ornaments. No more muted cloths and felt bows. Red! Red is the color. Red will be used in the fabrication of all Santas. There shall be no more pallid, ponderous Kringles in maroon suits with off-white fur trim. Proclaim the season in snow-white and in glorious, Rudolf-schnoz-red! What we want is blinking, clanging and blaring at Christmas time. Christmas is not an accent in the posh living room of the calendar year; it’s a cymbal clash in the library of day-to-day life! Burden your foppish dinner guests with sophistication during the other eleven months of your cabernet-anesthetized life.  At Christmas time, the trumpets shall blare! — the bells shall sound! — the nog shall egg! — the choirs shall rock! Christmas is not the time to be cool.  Cripes — listen to the music, if you want proof.  Even Elvis dorked-out for the holidays.

The Punishment: Violators will be forced to listen to Kevin Costner reading  A Christmas Carol, cover to cover. And he will do it in his best “English accent.”

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 220: There are some who say that we, as a society, are getting wimpier and wimpier. The Emperor does not want to believe this. But we are not making much of a case for ourselves if we fear the carbonation bubbles in our colas. Agreed? (Not that you have a choice…) The Emperor has seen, of late, several yellow-bellied varmints purchasing fizzy beverages and shaking or stirring said drinks before imbibing them, in order to “get rid of the bubbles.” No. Uh-uh. Buy juice. Buy water. Brew coffee. Crack open a carton of milk. Suck on a yogurt-tube if you must, but ye shall not sit there and enrage those around you with both your insipid, pencil-necked presence and with the shake-shake-shake of the bottle followed by the intermittent pssst-sssssssss-psst-sssssssssss as you twist the lid to let out the carbonation that you are not man enough to swallow. Used to be your average macho minion would belly up to the bar and order a flaming shot of bathtub hooch, complete with various errant floaties. Now, it’s “I’ll have a Sweetie Sugar Pop, hold the bubbles.” Thanks heavens The Duke never lived to see this day.

The Punishment: Violators will be stuffed into pink wet-suits and SCUBA gear. They will be submerged to a depth of 100 feet for an hour and then will be pulled up to the surface very quickly so that they might feel the horrors to which they are subjecting their innocent cola bottles.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 3X-45/17: Alright. Seriously: enough with the bacon. Turkeys-wrapped in bacon; pork chops wrapped in bacon; bacon ice cream; bacon pies; bacon-wrapped bacon over bacon salad with bacon vinaigrette. Bacon T-shirts; Facebook posts celebrating the glories of  bacon. Chocolate-covered bacon; sexy women dressed in bacon thongs. Bacon coffee? Woven bacon goblets? Bacon cereal? It’s only a matter of time before bacon-porn starts up. Sweet Jesu, people! It’s yummy. The Emperor gets it. But it’s no tastier than it was ten years ago. The Emperor wants loyal subjects, not trend-gobblers. (I’m seriously considering banning all Kevin Bacon films, just for good measure.) I blame Emeril Legasse for introducing the moronic culture of cheering enthusiastically for seasonings: GAAAAHLIC!! WOO-HOO!! Cripes, how desperate can we be for fun? BACON! YIPPEE!! Insufferable.

The Punishment: Violators (anyone who devours bacon in any way but in strips, on a plate, next to a few sunny-side eggs) will be put in a 5-by-5 cell, deep in the Imperial Dungeons, with three recently-bacon-whipped wild boars who will exact revenge for their fallen brethren in a most invasive way.

Now, go forth and obey.

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Tags: recipes & food, The Emperor decrees by Chris Matarazzo
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